Up
ticking silently on the red LED' s.
Nevermind the contrasting sliver blue light
piercing left to right from the east.
My mind is pointed westward,
it's still dark on this not quite dawn.
Awake like a night time northern breeze
blowing just hard enough
to clang the downstairs neighbors'
wind chimes discordantly.
"Midnight Blue - Please wait at least
another anecdote or two.
Permit me another story."
"Time will do what it will do."
"Stay up a bit longer with me,
indulge me, because
I can't permit sleep
when creativity spins
my thoughts this deeply."
"Then tell me another one."
© 2010 kevin gilmore
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I met this poet about two years ago and made him write his poems down. He was in the habit of scrawling them down on napkins and losing them forever. I set this blog up for him and after this post I revisited his blog to find his first entry - I think written for me:
Kevin's Swim
To swim into the rip current is the only choice.
If a man is not about to drown, than the man is not about to live.
The push is the only way to find the give.
The breath is had when the surface is broke.
The kiss in the shadow?
OK for a moment.
The embrace will save you.
The breath, the grasp, the sigh---that is all.
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